Miss Minerva and William Green Hill | Page 5

once.
"William," she said sternly, "you must not talk so much like a negro.
Instead of saying `I sho' is hongry,' you should say, `I am very hungry.'
Listen to me and try to speak more correctly."
"Don't! don't!" she screamed as he helped himself to the meat and
gravy, leaving a little brown river on her fresh white tablecloth. "Wait
until I ask a blessing; then I will help you to what you want."
Billy enjoyed his breakfast very much. "These muffins sho' is--" he
began; catching his aunt's eye he corrected himself--"
"These muffins am very good."
"These muffins are very good," said Miss Minerva patiently.
"Did you ever eat any bobbycued rabbit?" he asked. "Me an' Wilkes
Booth Lincoln been eatin' chit'lins, an' sweet 'taters, an' 'possum, an'
squirrel, an' hoecake, an' Brunswick stew ever sence we's born," was
his proud announcement.
"Use your napkin," commanded she, "and don't fill your mouth so full."
The little boy flooded his plate with syrup.
"These-here 'lasses sho' is--" he began, but instantly remembering that
he must be more particular in his speech, he stammered out:
"These-here sho' is--am--are a nice messer 'lasses. I ain't never eat sech
a good bait. They sho' is--I aimed to say--these 'lasses sho' are a bird;
they's 'nother sight tastier 'n sorghum, an' Aunt Cindy 'lows that
sorghum is the very penurity of a nigger."
She did not again correct him.

"I must be very patient," she thought, "and go very slowly. I must not
expect too much of him at first."
After breakfast Miss Minerva, who would not keep a servant,
preferring to do her own work, tied a big cook-apron around the little
boy's neck, and told him to churn while she washed the dishes. This
arrangement did not suit Billy.
"Boys don't churn," he said sullenly, "me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln
don' never have to churn sence we's born; 'omans has to churn an' I ain't
agoing to. Major Minerva--he ain't never churn," he began belligerently
but his relative turned an uncompromising and rather perturbed back
upon him. Realizing that he was beaten, he submitted to his fate,
clutched the dasher angrily, and began his weary work.
He was glad his little black friend did not witness his disgrace.
As he thought of Wilkes Booth Lincoln the big tears came into his eyes
and rolled down his cheeks; he leaned way over the churn and the great
glistening tears splashed right into the hole made for the dasher, and
rolled into the milk.
Billy grew interested at once and laughed aloud; he puckered up his
face and tried to weep again, for he wanted more tears to fall into the
churn; but the tears refused to come and he couldn't squeeze another
one out of his eyes.
"Aunt Minerva," he said mischievously, "I done ruint yo' buttermilk."
"What have you done?" she inquired.
"It's done ruint," he replied, "you'll hafter th'ow it away; 't ain't fitten fer
nothin.' I done cried 'bout a bucketful in it."
"Why did you cry?" asked Miss Minerva calmly. "Don't you like to
work?"
"Yes 'm, I jes' loves to work; I wish I had time to work all the time. But

it makes my belly ache to churn,--I got a awful pain right now."
"Churn on!" she commanded unsympathetically.
He grabbed the dasher and churned vigorously for one minute.
"I reckon the butter's done come," he announced, resting from his
labors.
"It hasn't begun to come yet," replied the exasperated woman. "Don't
waste so much time, William."
The child churned in silence for the space of two minutes, and
suggested: "It's time to put hot water in it; Aunt Cindy always puts hot
water in it. Lemme git some fer you."
"I never put hot water in my milk," said she, "it makes the butter puffy.
Work more and talk less, William."
Again there was a brief silence, broken only by the sound of the dasher
thumping against the bottom of the churn, and the rattle of the dishes.
"I sho' is tired," he presently remarked, heaving a deep sigh. "My arms
is 'bout give out, Aunt Minerva. Ole Aunt Blue-Gum Tempy's Peruny
Pearline see a man churn with his toes; lemme git a chair an' see if I
can't churn with my toes."
"Indeed you shall not," responded his annoyed relative positively.
"Sanctified Sophy knowed a colored 'oman what had a little dog went
roun' an' roun' an' churn fer her," remarked Billy after a short pause. "If
you had a billy goat or a little nanny I could hitch him to the churn fer
you ev'ry day."
"William," commanded his aunt, "don't say another word until you
have finished your work."
"Can't I sing?" he asked.

She nodded permission as she went through the open door